Technologic
by psycra2006
Summary: In a world of average people, a woman steps forth unlike most. Joseph Dunn learns that his father is not alone in the mythos that Elijah had so believed, and finds that there are others who have gifts much like his father fteen years later, Joseph learns that while his intentions are good, becoming involved in a world that is not yours is a dangerous game. This reality.
1. Calliope's Curse

"Shit…" Callie mumbled to herself as she stared at the blaring blue monitor on her computer screen, realizing that the 'blue screen of death' had lost its ability to scare her. She had long since relied on a backup hard drive and a backup USB drive whenever she worked, deciding that her company just didn't like technology enough to upgrade. The IT department knew her by name at this point, Callie joking that they would draw straws when her extension came up on the phones as to who had to go see her.

Today was no different. She rubbed her head, her dark blonde hair tied back in a light blue band, a few stray pieces by her face. Her eyes, a dark brown color, stared sadly at the computer tower to the left on the monitor, wondering if maybe this time they'd take pity on her and send up one of the newer pieces of equipment. Taking the black phone in her hand, she held it up, dialing '4' on speed dial, listening as the phone rang on the other end.

Tyler drew the short straw today, hearing his relaxed but amused voice on the other line, "Break something else, Cal?" He didn't even bother asking if she'd tried 'turning it on and off again', since the answer didn't really matter. In his seven years working IT at Windham International he had never met anyone who had required so much tech support. The strange part, he noticed, was that she wasn't even one of those idiot snobs who would download viruses like it was going out of style. She'd had all sorts of software installed, on her own, and all sorts of tech experience herself from years of needing to fix things. Numerous times in her own two years she'd had her hard drive examined for any violations of use. Each time, it'd come up empty; not even Facebook was in her browser history. She hadn't even tried it.

"I don't know, you tell me. I've got the ever-present blue screen staring me in the face and a PowerPoint that apparently didn't want to exist. Joke's on him, though, I saved him to the USB." She heard a sigh in the background, knowing Tyler was trying to work a way out of going upstairs. It was almost impossible to fix whatever she had broken, and he knew this from experience. The middle-aged man glanced to the side, spotting the new kid that had been hired a few weeks back, the one who didn't know any better. Popping up a help ticket on his screen, he spoke again, "I'll send one of the guys up with a replacement laptop to keep you going while we tinker around. Just don't break that too." Callie was about to thank him before the line went dead, staring at the phone, slightly hurt.

She drummed her fingers against her desk, trying to fight the urge to throw the computer against a wall. Technology be damned, she was tired of having to get things fixed. She used a spare hard drive and USB for good reason, which was that while the hard drive had occasionally bit the dust, the USB at least had not. Technology had never really been her friend, though as far as she could tell, there was no reason why. As a kid and teenager Callie had only to assume it was because she was simply clumsy, dropping things or bumping into them. Her parents had stopped letting her use their computer and bought her one for herself, one that Callie had learned early on how to fix, given how often it broke. Cellphones hadn't been a problem when she'd owned one of those Nokia bricks, but the second she had gone for a nice phone, the trouble had begun.

Walking into the store, she remembered the employee confused, never having seen a malfunction like that on the device she had. The only phone she ever really kept for longer than six months was her current one, encased heavily in an Otterbox case she'd purchased along with insurance for the phone. She'd found that tinkering never got her anywhere, only able to diagnose a problem but rarely could she fix it. Instead, her parents had insisted she follow _their_ passion of music as a hobby, insisting with a name like Calliope she would only be a natural. They hadn't been wrong; almost any instrument she picked up felt natural, as long as it wasn't mechanical in any way. But it had bothered her how much she relied on technology and she often wondered if there wasn't a way to just write everything down. Paper was so much easier.

Glancing around her office, she noticed that no one was really paying her much mind. Being on the research and development team meant that while she did belong on a team, much of what she did was also on her own. The company had requested individuals not 'fiddle' with electronics and leave the work to IT, but Callie had become irritated with that rule. She knew well enough how to diagnose the problem, and with a new person coming up, she at least wanted to appear competent.

Powering down the desktop, she drew the blinds on her office, something she did on occasion anyway when she wanted fewer distractions to focus. Her black heels carried her across the patterned cream carpet, waiting until the computer had powered down. Withdrawing a small screwdriver typically meant for the black glasses resting on her nose, she removed the side of the Dell desktop, peering inside. There was a distinctly burnt smell coming from within, and she immediately could tell that the fan had stopped working. A disgruntled look formed on her face, her freckles bunching up as she glared, "Useless piece of garbage."

In her fit of frustration and need to look capable, Callie had not removed the power cord, going so far as to slip off her heels, getting comfortable as she began to fiddle. Holding the screwdriver between her teeth, she reached in to move a few cables out of the way, one hand on the desk and both feet on the carpet. It was a stupid move, in true honesty, and one Calliope had typically not made. Most of her time spent fixing things had been done angrily, shaking the phone until it finally gave up or prodding the computer until it eventually passed on to a different world, or wherever technology went when it died. Grabbing at one of the exposed wires, she felt a sudden and quick jolt, a burst of energy snapping through her body.

The electricity had flooded her all at once, feeling herself remaining completely silent as she fell backwards, her body hitting the floor with a 'thud' only heard from below, and one that could have been mistaken for almost anything. Later, she would recall seeing brightness cover her eyes, swearing there had been a sort of flashlight. It was nothing like a near death experience that she could tell, but it certainly felt real enough. The other thing she would note later was that it hadn't hurt. Sure, it had been jarring, and certainly the fall had not been pleasant, but the electricity traveling through her body had done nothing to harm her.

It was around then that Evan arrived, rapping at the door several times, a little confused as to why no one had answered. He was a young, average-built man with dark brown hair cut short against his head, dressed in a black polo shirt and khaki pants, holding a laptop under one of his arms. He adjusted it as he waited, knocking a final time before entering, his eyes immediately falling to the woman collapsed on the floor. The laptop fell from his hands, hitting the ground with a muffled 'thunk', throwing the door open as he ran towards her.

The woman in the blue dress was collapsed on the ground, the computer open, Evan immediately realizing what had happened. He turned his head sharply, attention already drawn towards him, "Someone call 911!" A few gasps and murmurs were heard, Evan kneeling by her side, pressing his ear against her warm chest, listening for a heartbeat. He was scared; shaking as he knelt by this stranger's side, desperate to hear what would give him relief, waiting anxiously.

But the beats came. Slowly, carefully, as if nothing had happened, he heard her heart beating normally in her chest. Breath came from her lips, parted and relaxed, raising his head and looking down, thinking that she looked as though she'd only taken a nap. Her eyes were closed, though as commotion went on around her, he noticed that her brow was furrowed after a few minutes on the floor, eyelids twitching as she came back to consciousness.

Evan moved back, giving her space as she woke, slowly adjusting her body upwards, propping herself on her elbows. Things were blurry, but coming into focus as she readjusted, noticing people in her doorway, peering In, looking up and seeing a man kneeling down by her. She knew, very clearly, that what had happened was electrocution. However, as he looked at her, she knew that what happened should have burned her hand or even killed her. Such a shock was not for the faint of heart, and anyone would have remained unconscious, which was why Evan was giving her a confused look.

For whatever reason, Cal understood that she had to lie, knowing somewhere, deep down, that telling the truth would only get her in trouble. If nothing else, the company would hold her accountable for messing with the computer. So she held her head, her voice coming back to her, "I… I think I fainted." Evan's soft grey eyes bore confusion, shaking his head a bit as if to argue her point, wondering if she even knew what happened. Callie could see the look on his face, knowing how many people were looking, laughing nervously as she felt her face flush red, "I forgot lunch today… And breakfast." Evan kept by her, shaking his head, "I don't think-" He was interrupted by a sudden burst into the room, a few paramedics that had been in the building already testing new equipment knelt by her side.

Callie tried to wave them off, laughing as she shook her head, "No, seriously, I'm fine. I just think my blood sugar is low, I forgot to eat today." Being a woman certainly had advantages in a moment like this, the paramedics nodding, though the taller, bulkier one reaching out and taking her wrist, feeling for a pulse, "That wasn't too smart, huh?" She wanted to roll her eyes, though she was more concerned with the fact that what had happened was fairly unbelievable. The man she could only assume had come to fix her computer had found her on the floor, unconscious, and he knew. She knew he knew.

The paramedic looked at her as he withdrew his hand, Calliope sitting up and looking at him, getting herself together to stand, "Pulse is a little high, but that seems normal. Just get a bite to eat or something, OK?" She nodded her head, the other paramedic helping her up, the group that had gathered at her door dispersing. The man who helped her up glanced at Evan who was still standing by, looking concerned, "Hey, can you take her down? Make sure she gets there OK?" What was she, porcelain? A sort of disgruntled look fell over her features, aware that this was being done because they thought she had fainted, still feeling over protected. The man nodded, though, shrugging his shoulders as he glanced back at the dispersing group of people, making his way to grab the laptop he had dropped.

He picked it up, the paramedic passing him, Callie on her feet, smirking slightly, "Ironic." He glanced at her, cocking an eyebrow, mildly confused,

"Come again?" She shrugged, leaning back against her desk, glancing over at her desktop and then at his laptop, "I'm the one who usually breaks technology, and you're the IT guy sent to fix it. I'm guessing the laptop is busted." He looked at the large, black device, then back at Callie, only aware of her name from what he was told, "Doubtful. They told me to get the durable one we have, meant for off-site trips. The guys said something about you having problems with computers." Callie laughed, leaning against her desk, standing straight and adjusting the blue, knee-length dress, "Right. That's what they're saying." Evan placed the laptop down on her desk, looking at her again, "So I'm supposed to take you to get something to eat. Because you fainted."

His voice was thick with disapproval and distrust, Callie picking up on it immediately, "Look, I just didn't eat, OK? I don't need you walking me down there." She headed for the door, surprised when Evan took her arm, though gently, "Bullshit. That computer was open and you were on the floor, shoes off. You weren't grounded and I have ten bucks that says you got shocked." Callie snatched her arm away, realizing now that she really was barefoot, having forgotten in the shuffle. She walked past him and slid on the heels again, "What's your name?" Her eyes turned towards him and he kept a stiff posture, "Evan. Evan Hall." She walked back towards him, taking her purse off her desk, "Look, Evan. You can walk me down to the cafeteria and sit with me while I eat, making you look like a Good Samaritan, or you can leave the laptop, take my desktop, and just go."

He paused, not expecting that kind of reaction. In fact, he hadn't expected any of this. They had laughed at him as he left the department, mumbling something about Evan being stuck with her, but he hadn't understood why. He was beginning to doubt his own beliefs, that he had seen a woman electrocuted by a current that ran through the computer. But that had to be it. Why would she faint so close to an open desktop? Running his fingers through his dark hair, he nodded his head, "Yeah, fine. I'll take you down."

The escort down had been silent, Evan occasionally glancing over at the woman by his side to see if he could spot any signs of electrocution, though none were visible. He did see a mark on her left hand, something resembling a scar about an inch and a half long, but that wasn't from the computer. In turn, Calliope had occasionally glanced over at Evan, mostly sizing him up. He was attractive, and about her age, somewhat non-remarkable but otherwise looked like he took care in his appearance.

By the time the two got down to the cafeteria, Callie finally spoke up, "You done checking me out, Hall?" He looked almost shocked as they stepped onto the tile floor, her heels clicking, pausing as he walked, "Don't flatter yourself, Calliope." She tossed him a look, heading immediately towards the café within, picking out a turkey sandwich and water, something innocuous to sit and eat. Evan was behind her, grabbing a bottle of diet coke, the two paying separately, walking silently to a table towards the back of the large, echoing room.

It was quieter now, the room bright with light pouring in through the windows, the walls white as well, reflecting and making it brighter. As she sat, Evan sat across, looking at her wearily, "Why are you so concerned about people knowing? You might seriously be hurt." Callie, who had been about to take a bite of her sandwich, placed it down, looking at him, "That's just it, Evan. I'm not hurt. I got hit with a shock of electricity through a goddamn computer and I'm fine. You don't think that's weird? Not to mention the fact that if the company knew I had been tinkering around, I could lose my job." She picked up the sandwich again, realizing she had been leaning in, whispering, and straightening up as she took a bite.

Across the table, Evan was quiet as he contemplated this. Sure, the company would reprimand her for what she'd done, and given her reputation within the department, it was likely she wouldn't be seen favorably. But why not be concerned? Why not get oneself checked out, just to be safe? He sighed, opening the bottle of soda and taking a drink, leaning back, "Did it at least hurt? I mean, you don't… that doesn't happen without some kind of sensation." He refrained from referring to 'electrocution' specifically, Callie shrugging, swallowing her bite before responding, "I mean, I guess. I definitely felt it, and it was definitely uncomfortable, but I don't know if it hurt. It felt like touching a doorknob in the winter after you've been walking on a rug."

Evan couldn't help but laugh a little, smiling at Callie who in turn smiled back, looking down and brushing her hair back. He had wanted to say that in that moment, he had felt a spark, but it would have been far too cheesy. When he recounted it later to Joseph, he'd instead say he felt drawn to her, feeling something else in that moment.

Taking another sip, he watched as she ate for a moment, "So what kind of name is Calliope anyway?" He smiled as he asked, attempting to disarm her momentarily as she grinned at him, "It's a Greek muse, supposedly daughter of Zeus. She's known for her being the muse of Homer's _Odyssey_. Dad said he liked her because she's always holding a pen and paper. Very artsy." His smile was genuine as she explained her own name origin, nodding his head and leaning forward a bit, "Seems appropriate. Sounds kind of like 'cantaloupe' though." She smirked, cocking an eyebrow, "Yeah, if you're drunk." He grinned at her again. She was likable enough, despite all her issues with technology and initial defenses, though he assumed that was mostly due to keeping herself safe.

Evan had departed from the cafeteria, figuring he had just had a strange encounter though deciding to leave well enough alone. She was a woman out of his league, and even if he had wanted to ask for her number, he doubted that it was something she handed out. He had decided, however, that this was something one didn't just keep to themselves, but he didn't know anyone at work well enough to talk to, nor did he really trust them to keep quiet. Instead, he decided he'd talk to Joseph later, the man he'd become close friends with during college.

The two kept up well enough, having initially met during a class Evan had taken to fulfill his writing requirement his junior year, that being _The History of Comics_. Joseph was a year behind him, and was quite enamored with the class, Evan taking it because it seemed easy and because it would be a simple task. He wound up getting a B, mostly because he'd skipped a few lessons and stayed in the computer lab, a place he felt more at home. When the two had gone their separate ways, they had both wound up moving to Philadelphia, Joseph to be close to his parents and his father whom he adored, and Evan because he loved the city too damn much to move elsewhere. Nowhere else had truly felt like home, and he had no reason to step outside his comfort zone. He never had.

Meanwhile, Callie had gone back to her office, a few individuals who she spoke to regularly stopping by to see if she was OK, having opened the blinds in her window. The desktop still sat, untouched, on her desk. She was almost afraid to move it at this point, opting to sit on the other end of the desk, powering on the laptop. It booted up and connected to the internet without a hiccup, though Callie adjusting to the smaller keyboard and mouse with not much ease and mostly irritation. She immediately saw the list of emails, one from her supervisor, asking if she was OK, some insisting she go home. Maybe it was a good idea. It was three in the afternoon by now, and she felt like leaving wouldn't be much of a hassle.

The young woman sighed, slouching a bit in her chair as she made a conscious decision to leave, gathering her things and pretty much dumping them in her purse. She wasn't a perfectionist, nor was she a workaholic, but she was certainly not excited about leaving mid-project, especially when that meant she had to finish up some at home.

Closing the laptop, she slung her bag over her arm, taking a breath before stepping out of her office and into the main cubicle area, avoiding the eyes that seemed to follow her. She was certain that by tomorrow, no one would remember what had happened and she could carry on as though nothing had occurred. It was nice, then, that she would get to leave and pretend it hadn't occurred. Maybe she'd have a glass of wine, decompress and play her violin, or perhaps the guitar that had been gathering dust in the corner, begging to be played again as she once had frequently years ago.


	2. A New Reality

When Evan had called Joseph, telling him the weirdest thing had happened, Joseph initially hadn't been fazed. He'd been in the middle of playing Madden, one of the only ways he could really play sports, and was half paying attention, "Yeah, Joe, she was just bizarre. The whole thing was weird." Joseph nodded his head, then realized Evan couldn't see him, glancing down at the phone on speaker, "Oh, weird." There was silence for a moment, Evan able to hear the sounds of the game in the background, "Dude, are you playing Madden while talking to me? Actually, are you playing Madden period?" Joseph groaned audibly, finally pausing the game and picking up the phone, walking into his kitchen, "Jesus, you're worse than my mother. Listen, just come over and have a beer with me or something. It's fine." Evan rubbed his face, thinking for a second and then sighing, "Yeah, sure. Can't stay late, I have to head in early and grab that chick's computer before the boss finds out I left without taking it."

The commute had been short with traffic having died, Evan finding himself holding one of the cheap beers Joseph had become accustomed to consuming. He forced himself to drink it, never having had an affinity for alcohol, sitting on the couch adjacent to Joseph who had put on Sports Center in the background. Evan looked at the blue bottle, "I found her on the floor, passed out. But I swear to god, man, she got electrocuted. She didn't ever say it out loud, but I know that's what happened." He took another long drink, Joseph turning from the television and eyeing the scores idly to looking directly at him.

For a moment, Joseph was reminded of the conversation Elijah had with his father and how skeptical his dad had been. He remembered being told to throw out the water, though shook it off, "Who cares if she got shocked, then? She's fine, right?" Joe tossed back the last of his beer, standing and walking to the kitchen to grab another from the aging fridge as Evan spoke, "Right, that's just it. If she got shocked, she should have had a burn mark and she should have fried. She would have stayed unconscious. I mean, Jesus, Joe, she shouldn't even be alive, the thing was connected to the power cord still!"

That was about the time Joseph sat back down, staring at Evan with a look of puzzlement and concern. At least, that's how Evan interpreted it. He glanced up at his friend and leaned back, putting the beer down, "Don't act like I'm an alien, OK? I just thought it was weird. I didn't know who else to tell." Joseph was leaning forward, his mouth agape as he tried not to stare at Evan, looking back towards the television. He could see the Eagles on TV, practicing, footage of how they were doing being played, but he wasn't actually watching it.

No. There was no way that could actually be the case, not two of them, right? Joseph tried to act more casual, "Well did you see any burns?" Evan, thinking his friend was finally believing him rather than staring with his mouth agape, responded, "No. I mean, she had this gnarly scar on her other hand, but that didn't look like it was from the computer. I guess she breaks a lot of stuff pretty often. The guys were talking about her as the 'Tech Killer' or some stupid shit. Probably just thought she could fix it herself."

What was it Elijah had said, exactly? That comics were a way of telling a story? What if there were more stories than just his father's? It sounded like she got hurt, and given she was unconscious, he was skeptical. He'd never seen anything like it or heard anything like it in his life, and his father had been the only one he knew. Joe took a drink of the beer and put it down, leaning back on the couch, "That's pretty weird. Maybe she just lucked out or something. Sounds like she isn't worried." But Joe was. Joseph Dunn was concerned, and not just because something was eating at Evan, but because he had seen what happened with his father. His entire world had changed and he had discovered who Elijah was, and it had eaten at him. He remembered years later, when he was about fifteen, his father had admitted one night how terrible he felt, seeing all sorts of things that had happened, that he couldn't fix, that he could never stop. It was a matter of finding out what you could control.

Evan stared at the beer, as if there was a message inside to decipher, "Yeah. Maybe. It's just… she told me she felt it. She said she felt the shock, but it didn't hurt." Evan had never been a believer in much, never gone to church or avoided black cats and broken mirrors, but this had shaken him. The worst part was that he had no idea why he was so upset about the situation, but that was why he had spoken to Joseph. He had decided that if Joseph could calm him down, the man convinced that everything was possible, he was probably just over-exaggerating it. And indeed, it seemed he was.

That was when Joe grinned, "She was cute, wasn't she?" Evan smirked over, taking a sip of the beer, "Yeah, definitely my type. Tall, curvy, gorgeous blonde hair." Joseph laughed as he put the beer on the table, "You're just harping on this 'cause she's hot. Ever thought of just asking her out rather than making up this fantasy about her?" Evan felt himself flush, leaning back with his hands behind his head, "I dunno, dude. I kinda like the idea of her just existing in my head. Can't say no if I don't ask, right?" Joe laughed, picking up his beverage and taking a long swig before putting it back down, wiping the condensation off his hands, "Just ask. Tell her you want to just see how she's doing. I don't know, make some shit up." Truthfully, Joseph was curious. He wanted more information but had no way of digging, besides the internet, and Evan seemed eager to get to know her. Joe felt bad for manipulating his friend, but maybe something would come of it.

By the end of the evening, Evan had reluctantly agreed to ask out the young woman by the end of the next day, given it was Thursday. He'd have a perfectly valid excuse for seeing her, which was that he had her computer, after all, though from what he understood there probably wasn't much he could learn about her if he went through it. Even going through her browser history would feel invasive, and the very thought of doing it made him sick. He wanted to get to know her on the basis of who she was, even if who she was, was weird and awkward. Something about what had happened made Evan drawn to her.

Evan had never really been one to make any kind of 'moves' in his time on the planet, mostly just relying on occasionally being introduced to a friend of a friend. It wasn't that he was unattractive, but mostly he'd found that when someone spent a majority of their life focused on computers, social interactions in reality were sometimes harder. He was happy to stay in and play on his Xbox or his PlayStation, or even tinker around with his PC. Instead, Joseph was doing his civic duty and pushing Evan outside his box. Joe had no idea whether or not it would end well, but he felt a desperate need to know more. Even as Evan left to go back to his apartment, Joseph found himself opening Google, having gotten her name out of Evan.

He glanced sideways, the clock displaying "11:26" in green, realizing he should get to bed if he was to get to work. He did more hands-on mechanical work and had been called in to start a new project at the car dealership he worked at, helping at headquarters. Regardless, he typed "Calliope McCullough" into the search bar, deciding her name was unique enough he couldn't really go wrong. However, the only things he found were a LinkedIn profile (that looked drastically outdated), and a few articles about her musical talents. She had apparently performed in an orchestra during her high school days, and even into college, but had never pursued it further. There were a few pictures of her, and immediately Joseph noticed the appeal. She wasn't stunning in the way one would imagine, but there was a picture he saw on an article a few years old, with the woman playing the violin, that gave him pause.

There was a sort of beauty to seeing a human doing something they loved, seeing the passion resonating within them that was rarely captured on film. Ignoring the thought, he continued, getting irritated with the fact that there wasn't really anything on her of substance. Hell, she didn't even have a Facebook page. She was truly not a presence online, no outstanding articles stating "one lone survivor" like his own father had. Instead, she was incredibly ordinary, or at least appeared that way. Being invulnerable seemed not to be a thing with her, as the scar on her hand expressed, though maybe there were other things. That was where Evan came in. He couldn't help but feel guilty for manipulating a friend, wondering if maybe all those years around his father had jaded him. It was certainly one of the reasons he drank so heavily, and certainly one of the reasons he had become so pained. The moment as a child when he had been beaten for helping a girl in his class had cemented a piece of himself as truth: he was not special. Joseph was not a unique snowflake, no matter how hard he tried. True, he was proud of his father and felt joy for the work he did, but he also resented it to some degree. He was never a part of it. Never involved.

Rubbing his eyes, he finished another beer, staring down at the bottle as he felt the grogginess brought on by the alcohol consumption. It was late, and he knew he needed to be awake. Evan would probably have more information in the morning, and he decided if not, he would let it go. The last thing Joe wanted in his life was to become another Elijah, desperately seeking someone on the spectrum, going to lengths that cost others their lives. He shrugged off the thought as he often did with anything painful, flicking off the monitor and making his way to the large bed nearby, collapsing onto it. He haphazardly set an alarm, flicking on the green numbers, sighing a bit as he allowed sleep to take him over.


End file.
